


tell it to the volcano

by tboi



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Found Family, M/M, Multi, Selectively Mute Character, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 05:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18653788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tboi/pseuds/tboi
Summary: I would lay my life down for any of them, (Minato) thinks. This is my family.





	tell it to the volcano

**Author's Note:**

> the way ive written minato in this takes both inspiration from the movies + the game + my own personal headcanons. minato is selectively mute in this fic and solely communicates using JSL - all his dialogue is italicized, and all dialogue in which other characters use JSL is italicized.
> 
> most major change i’ve made in this fic compared directly to the game is probably that shinjiro does not die and instead goes into a coma like he can do on the f!mc route. this was done for nothing other than sentimental reasons because i love him xo
> 
> also, i’ve done my best to follow the timeline of the game - i was both playing persona 3 at the time of writing this and also have been double checking things, but there might be something off - nothing plot breaking, though? i hope? ? ?
> 
> sorry for the long notes! that’s all i have to say, though. this was a pain in my ass to work on, but i put a lot into it and i hope you like it, please let me know what you think in the comments if you have time. i’m on twitter @neroscaeva :)

It goes like this; don’t talk back, don’t raise your voice, don’t stamp your feet. Back straight, heels clicked together, head up. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to, make eye contact when you’re spoken to, keep your mouth shut. Say _ thank you  _ and  _ please  _ and  _ goodbye _ .

 

It crumbles like this; sometimes he  _ has  _ to scream, has to stamp his four year old feet onto the hard wooden floor, sometimes eye contact feels like dousing himself in gasoline and using a match he found in the home’s kitchen drawer to light the flame. The car in his dreams burns, and burns, and burns - and when he wakes up, the terror has no-where to go but out sometimes. He has nightmares before he’s even learned what the word means, before he knows how to form the syllables with his tongue. 

 

The words die on his tongue more often than not, rot hidden between his teeth. It slips down into his throat and he finds it’s easier to just not speak at all. He learns to hold conversation with his hands and not his tongue, finds it’s the easiest way for him to use his voice. He visits the library and checks out books he reads under his covers on  _ Japanese sign language _ and transfers the syllables that came out broken and harsh into fluid motions he can quickly make with his hands.

 

He buries his voice away. It finds its home in his hands.

 

—

 

The dorms are the first and final place he has to really call  _ home _ . When the admission pamphlet falls through the door and into his hands at the home he currently stays at, there is a slight tremor to them.

 

_ I can go, right? _ He asks one of the workers. Not all of them understand what he’s saying - Minako was hired mostly on the basis that she  _ could _ . After it became apparent after the third, fourth, fifth foster family sent him home at the age of eight, eleven, twelve, on the basis of  _ he just won’t speak,  _ it became apparent he never  _ would  _ \- he was tired of writing angrily on notepads and whiteboards. He had told them this.    
  
Minako was the first person who could mirror the signs he was making right back at him. His voice came out her throat when necessary, when people needed to know what he was saying with his hands but couldn’t be bothered to learn to talk to him themselves. She’s a godsend - she’s the closest thing he has to family.

 

“Of course,” she says, smile bright, her brown hair spilling over her shoulders. She’s always liked him. “I’m really proud of you for getting accepted.”   
  
_ Thanks _ , he says.  _ Thanks for helping me choose a school to transfer to. _

 

“It’s no problem,” she tells him. “I went to Gekkoukan too, you know.”   
  
_ When _ , he smirks,  _ back in the stone age _ ? She gently  _ whaps  _ him over the head.

 

“I’m barely twenty five!” she crows. “Kids are so rude nowadays.”   
  
_ I’m sixteen _ , Minato pulls a face akin to mild disgust.

 

“Like I said,” Minako puts her hands on her hips. “Kids. Do you need help packing?”   
  
_ If you don’t mind _ , he says, because he’s lazy. 

 

“Let’s go, then,” she ruffles his hair and walks with him to his room.

 

_ Make sure you write _ , she signs to him at the station later as she drops him off, not trusting her voice not to break.  _ Constantly! Every week! _

 

_ Demanding, _ he signs back, watery.  _ I’ll try. _

 

—

 

The moon is too large in the sky. He hurries to the dorm as soon as he gets off his train.   
  
There is someone waiting for him when he arrives, not someone his age like he’d expected - a boy of maybe twelve sits on a desk and kicks his feet. Minato signs the contract, and the boy smiles at him, all teeth.

 

“See you soon,” he says, and vanishes.

 

—

 

The  _ real  _ introductions are - awkward. Mitsuru is collected and can understand him, which is nice. Yukari seems to have been entirely unaware that he was moving in in the first place, and cannot understand him. She seems hesitant to talk to him.

 

He wants to ask about the kid, the contract, crack a joke about  _ a weird welcoming _ , but he doesn’t. Pharos makes himself known soon enough, anyways. It quickly becomes apparent that he’s the only one that’s met him.

 

Yukari shows him round school the next day anyways, talks his ear off on the monorail about the view. He zones out and watches the ocean.

 

When things turn messy and confusing - and they do turn  _ extremely  _ confusing - Minato clenches his teeth and doesn’t let his hands shake. The lights turn green in the building and the moon looms large outside his window, and he doesn’t let his hands shake. 

 

Yukari falls to the ground. He pushes the gun to his temple. It feels like his soul erupts from the barrel, rips itself free in Orpheus’ form. 

 

Mitsuru says words to him later like  _ Shadows  _ and  _ Persona  _ and  _ Tartarus  _ as if they mean anything.

 

“We noticed you had the potential,” the Chairman tells him. “So sorry for the deceit.”

 

—

 

Climbing Tartarus becomes a near nightly task, because Minato is their self-appointed leader for now, and he’s trying to learn how to lead his team when none of them can understand what he’s saying. It’s frustrating sticking to simple hand signs because they don’t get his point across well enough - pointing and flailing his arms are not really an option in a situation as dangerous as this. Mitsuru does her best to translate for them over the speaker, but, well.

 

“Why is he even leader?” Junpei whines one night after they manage one floor in an hour. “What makes him so qualified?”

 

“Because, if you hadn’t noticed, he has the best grip on the situation out of all of you,” Mitsuru says, her tone daring someone to argue. “It’s hardly his fault none of you can be bothered to learn how to communicate with him.” Her heels click down the hallway.

 

“Geez,” Junpei says. Yukari punches him in the shoulder.

 

(Akihiko, Junpei and Yukari come to him after that, shuffling their feet awkwardly. He directs them to books on JSL in the school’s library, and they catch on  _ fast  _ \- he sits up with them all, practicing in the lounge on the nights they don’t go into Tartarus.

 

His heart swells with something akin to appreciation. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous).

 

—

 

Minato is never quite  _ awake  _ when Pharos visits, the same way he’s never quite asleep when he visits the Velvet Room - it’s an inbetween state, one in which he never has quite enough energy to move. 

 

Something unsettles him about the way the blue of his eyes bleed into the iris. He spins warnings as riddles and his voice is high and flat, like he never got around to learning how to emote properly. Minato can relate.

 

“My only friend,” Pharos will call him, much later. It will feel like talking to the mirror.

 

—

  
They’re finally working together as a real, actual team, when the murmurs about Fuuka begin in the hallways. Two full moons have passed. The next one is in a couple of days.

 

“Do you know this Yamagishi girl?” Junpei asks him. Minato shakes his head. “Hm.”

 

“I got told she’s missing,” Yukari says out of nowhere. Minato hadn’t noticed her catching up to them.

 

“The teachers say it’s illness, though,” Junpei tells her. She rolls her eyes at him.

 

“And you just believe everything the teachers say? C’mon, let’s go tell Mitsuru about this. I’m sure she has an idea.”

 

—

 

Yukari looks uncomfortable being left with Mitsuru at the entrance to Tartarus, but it’s not something Minato can afford to worry himself with. They prowl the corridors looking for Fuuka - their footsteps echo in the dark.

 

“Hello?” they hear a voice, quiet and close. “Are - is somebody there?”

 

“Thank God,” Akihiko breathes out and heads in the direction of her voice. Fuuka is crouched on the floor, but she doesn’t look afraid - her shoulders are squared and her eyes determined.

 

“Are you Yamigishi?” Junpei asks her. She nods her head.

 

“Yes,” she says. “Where are we?”

 

“I’ll explain once we get outta here,” Junpei offers. “It’s a loooooong story.”

 

“How have you avoided the Shadows?” Akihiko asks her. She tilts her head.

 

“Shadows? The creatures, you mean? Is that what they’re called? Well,” she hums in thought. “It’s like I can sense them somehow - can you not? I can tell where they are, and I can sense their movements.”

 

“Wow,” Junpei says. “Impressive.”

 

_ Very,  _ Minato signs.

 

_ Thank you,  _ Fuuka signs back. Minato raises his eyebrows.

 

_ My mother is deaf _ , she explains.  _ I learned growing up.  _ Minato’s face splits in a genuine smile.

 

—

 

Fuuka is a godsend, Minato decides ten minutes into their fight against this months Greater Shadows. The shadows try to adapt, but Fuuka is faster, analysing them almost as quickly as their armour changes.

 

“Fire!” she cries out from behind them. Junpei pulls Hermes from the depths of himself and sets the shadow alight.

 

“Thunder, now!” she says, next. A bolt of lightning sparks from Polydeuces’ hand and connects with the shadow.

 

“Wind,” Yukari throws out a Garu spell. “And then...ice, now!” Minato summons Jack Frost, and the shadow falls.

 

_ Wow,  _ he says, turning round to meet Fuuka’s gaze. He gives her a thumbs up, and she laughs behind her hand. __  
  


—

  
Fuuka becomes a quick friend. They’re both quiet people, but Minato finds the silence around her is soothing instead of awkward and stifling, like he finds it can be around Mitsuru at times. They stay up and do homework together, and Fuuka signs inside jokes at him during their expeditions into Tartarus, fast enough that the rest of the team who are still learning cannot pick up on what they’re snickering about.

 

Her ability proves invaluable, and allows Mitsuru to move back to the front lines. Fuuka analyses enemies like she was born to do it, concise and fast - Minato is always amazed by just how  _ quickly  _ she manages it.

 

“I never forget,” she tells him, voice soft. “A Shadow’s weakness. Once I’ve analysed it, I don’t forget it. Isn’t that strange?” Minato shrugs.

 

_ Isn’t this entire situation?  _ he retorts. She smiles.  _ Help me with question three?  _

 

—

 

Meeting Aigis is the highlight of Minato’s summer - not that he doesn’t appreciate the opportunity to go to the beach, and he’s grateful to Mitsuru and the Chairman for organising this, really, but he can only pretend to relate to the way Junpei talks about girls for so long. 

 

So, Aigis. And summer. Her bluntness is a welcome change of pace, and her skills are much appreciated as they return to Tartarus. They fight back to back, side by side, like they’ve known each other their whole lives and they have a connection worn smooth by time. She translates for him when his signs are too fast or complex for the rest of the (mostly) still learning team to understand, and she sits up with him in the lounge on the nights he just can’t sleep.

 

“I do not require sleep to function,” she says, threading her deadly hands through his hair. “So I do not mind keeping you company. You require sleep, however.”

 

_ Can’t sleep, though,  _ he signs lazily. She offers to knock him out. 

 

He loves her the way he loves Minako - familial and endlessly. 

 

—

 

He has more in common with Ken than he was counting on. They don’t really talk until after he requests to become a part of SEES, because Minato doesn’t expect to have anything in common with a kid half a decade younger than him, but Ken starts the conversation with a tap to his shoulder.

 

_ I can sign too _ , Ken says to him after a Tartarus expedition one night when they’re the only people in the lounge, a welcome surprise.  _ ‘Cause sometimes I can’t talk with my mouth. _

 

_ I think Koramaru can understand us,  _ Minato says back.  _ It’s weird.  _

 

_ Dogs are smart!  _ Ken tells him, face split in a grin. He’s missing one of his front teeth, lost in the depths of Tartarus. Minato was going to slip money under his pillow anyways.  _ So he probably can.  _

 

_ Fuuka can speak it too, and so can Mitsuru - the rest of the team is learning, actually. You know Shinjiro already knows it?  _ Minato tells him. That, too, had been a welcome surprise - Shinjiro’s fluency matches his own. There’s a story there, one Minato hasn’t asked to read yet.

 

_ Oh, yeah.  _ Ken’s hands move far less enthusiastically than they had done before.  _ I saw him talking to you before.  _ The conversation stills, and Minato curses himself at the next full moon for not saying anything about the slight tremor to Ken’s hands.

 

_ You should go to bed,  _ Minato tells him, because he feels responsible for everyone, the title of leader heavy on his shoulders.  _ I don’t want to get in trouble with Akihiko for keeping you up. _

 

“Okay,” Ken says. “Goodnight!” Minato watches him head up the stairs two steps at a time and hopes and prays Ken never experiences anything worse than what he’s already been through. Later on he slips the money under his pillow.

 

(This prayer, of course, does not reach the heavens).

 

—

 

It all seems so far away.

 

He pressed the gun to his temple three seasons ago. His hands did not shake as he pulled the trigger, did not not shake as Orpheus erupted from his consciousness like a snake shedding its skin. His hands did not shake as they made the sign for  _ Agi _ , a word he didn’t know and yet had known all along. They did not shake as he helped Yukari off the ground after the whole ordeal was done.

 

They shook, later, as he scribbled a letter to Minako in the dead of night, which he then proceeded to tear up because he could hear Mitsuru tell him to  _ not tell anyone _ . There was a slight tremor to them when he woke up in the Velvet room for the first time. They did not shake as he was handed his own Evoker, his own armband, the role of leader.

 

They are shaking now.

 

Shinjiro is bleeding out in front of him, and Akihiko has him cradled in his arms like he’s something precious. Minato can’t do anything. He can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, and to move closer seems like an invasion of privacy. The things Akihiko is mumbling into Shinjiro’s hair are not for him to hear.    
  
The taste of the ramen Shinjiro made for him earlier sits heavy in his mouth. 

 

“The hospital,” Fuuka breathes out. “We have to-”   
  
“Let’s waste no time,” Mitsuru says. She’d be all business if her voice wasn’t shaking. 

 

_ It’s the Dark Hour, there aren’t any doctors _ , Minato signs too quick for anyone to understand. 

 

“It’s the Dark Hour,” Aigis repeats for him. “There aren’t any doctors.” Junpei swears under his breath.

 

“Then,” Yukari’s voice is shaking. “Is he not going to make it?”   
  
Ken screams, and screams, and  _ screams _ . It weaves its way into Minato’s dreams for months to come, broken and helpless and scared. Guilty.

 

It takes them forty minutes to get Shinjiro to a hospital.

 

He lives, but barely. 

 

Minato can’t meet Akihiko’s eyes.

 

—

 

The way they fight changes after that. Minato takes Akihiko, Ken and Aigis into Tartarus the week after, because the moon remains hung in the sky, even though it feels like it should have shattered with the gunshot.   
  


(He has to buy Akihiko new gloves from the station, because the ones he was using before were stained with Shinjiro’s blood. He refused to get rid of them and Minato did not press the issue).

 

Akihiko’s resolve gave birth to a whole new form of his Persona and Minato can tell he still finds Caesar hard to control, as if the Persona had split itself in half, twins separated at birth. He has to call the climb off four floors into the newest block of Tartarus - it’s pitiable. Before they’d been managing at least ten at a time.

 

_ Good work _ , he says and does not mean it. Akihiko won’t meet his eyes - it’s hardly his fault, Minato thinks. They’re all out of it, Akihiko honestly least of all. He’d bounced back from the whole situation fairly quickly, optimistic to a fault. Minato can’t help but feeling like he’s failed them, failed his team, his friends - he’s their leader and he wasn’t there when the gun went off.

 

“You can’t possibly blame yourself,” Mitsuru says to him later, almost a question. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

 

_ I know,  _ he signs, frustrated.  _ But we weren’t there. _

 

“No, we weren’t,” her voice is clipped, almost irritated. “And that’s how it went. There were more pressing matters at hand and as a result we weren’t there, and now we have to keep pushing on. We’re  _ so  _ close to putting this entire ordeal to bed. We have one full moon left.”

 

_ I know,  _ he says again.  _ I am aware. _ He knows it isn’t fair for him to get annoyed with her, and the frustration never shows on his face as a result - she’s known Shinjiro triple the time he has, and while Minato holds the title of leader, Mitsuru is their backbone.

 

“Okay,” she breathes out, the  _ I’m not arguing with you  _ going unsaid. “Make sure you’re prepared, then.” The click of her heels echo up the stairs as she leaves him almost alone in the lounge.

 

_ Rocky times in paradise,  _ he signs to Koramaru. The dog tilts his head and whines.

 

—

 

“Are you worried?” Fuuka asks him one night in the lounge, as they take a break from their homework strewn out on the table before them. It’s late.

 

_ About what?  _ Minato asks. 

 

“The Dark Hour vanishing,” she clarifies. “I am.”

 

_ What do you mean? _ he hesitates to ask. He thinks he knows what she means.

 

“Well, before I came here and met all of you, I was,” she pauses to find the right words. “I didn’t do much. But I have a place here. I’m important to the team. My Persona’s ability is entirely about helping us.”

 

_ So what do you do when it’s over? Is that what you mean?  _ he asks.

 

“Yes,” she says, brows knit together. “It’s horrible for me to think, because the Dark Hour and Tartarus and this whole situation is - it’s horrible! People are hurting because of this, but,” her voice becomes a whisper. “I have a place here.”

 

_ You’ll have a place in the world afterwards, too,  _ he tells her. Pretends he doesn’t lie awake and wonder whether he’s Minato or the wildcard first.  _ Promise. _

 

“Thank you,” she smiles at him softly. “Can you help me with question six?”

 

—

  
Minato is sick of watching people die, almost die, of watching shadows wretch and scream as they dissolve back into dust.

 

Jin throws himself off the bridge like it’s the most natural thing he’s ever done, like he’s practiced his death in his room before. There is no sound as he hits the sickly, thick red water below. It should disturb him, but he’s six months and eleven huge, hulking shadows that prowl his nightmares deep into this bullshit, and nothing surprises him anymore.

 

The shadow tears into them with something akin to rage. There’s a desperate edge to its attacks, to the way it moves - it summons substitutes and hovers above them, hollow face staring him dead in the eyes.

 

It’s a messy fight. Ken is shaken, presumably from just having witnessed a double suicide - Minato curses himself for dragging him along, but Ken is insistent on pulling his own weight, acts like his life that has barely begun is the biggest burden placed upon the Earth. Acts like his mother would be anything but painfully proud and afraid for him.

 

Yukari stitches their skin back together when the  _ Zio  _ spells singe their clothes and more. The shadow falls, eventually, but it doesn’t dissolve quick and easy like the smaller ones in Tartarus tend to - it moans and groans as it oozes into the cracks in the bridge, face melting off. It makes his stomach churn, but-

 

There is a cheer from behind him. Minako looks over the group, his friends, all grinning tiredly, watches Akihiko pop open a first aid kit to help Ken bandage up his hand, watches Junpei clap Yukari and Fuuka over the shoulders as he insists to Mitsuru that  _ we deserve a party, c’mon,  _ and thinks  _ oh. _

 

(Mitsuru had asked him not long after Shinjiro was shot, if he thought he could lay his life down for somebody.

 

_ I think I could,  _ he had said, thinking of Minako. Mitsuru had raised her eyebrows at him and nodded in some kind of understanding).

 

The answer is clear as day, now.  _ I would lay my life down for any of them, _ he thinks.  _ This is my family. _

 

He thinks of Shinjiro, thinks of three bullets to the chest to save a kid who wanted to tear his heart out of his chest himself and understands.

 

He feels it so overwhelmingly as they sit the night after in the dorm, arguing over who gets to eat what - a love so bone deep and natural for the people around him it feels like it’s been there for a lifetime. He can’t imagine himself anywhere else.

 

_ I’ve found a family here,  _ he writes back to Minako, later.  _ I’m going to stay here for my senior year. _

 

(He, of course, does not get the chance).

 

—

 

He is  _ sick, of- _

 

The betrayal came, and, frankly was not entirely unexpected. He had never felt right round the Chairman, always had a vague sense of unease. Tartarus’ bells toll.

 

Mitsuru’s sobs erupt from her throat like a bird breaking from its cage, violent and desperate.

 

“Father,” she says, knelt over what Minato already knows is a corpse. She shakes the body, and he has to look away.

 

“Mitsuru-senpai-,” Yukari begins, and there’s solidarity there, now, an ugly unfair connection under the jealousy and resentment.

 

“I-,” Mitsuru tries to begin, but cannot. Her voice shakes as violently as Minato’s hands had trembled after that first night. 

 

_ Again,  _ he thinks, doesn’t let it show on his face. He feels like an intruder the same way he did when he showed up six months ago, the same way he did watching Akihiko cradle Shinjiro as his blood stained his gloves.

 

“We should,” she starts again. “We should get out of here.”

 

There is nothing anyone can say to her to make this better. Mitsuru cries silently into Akihiko’s shoulder one night in the lounge, Minato an accidental witness.

 

That scene finds its place in his nightmares, too. He dreams of Shinjiro’s lungs no longer rattling, of Ken’s scream erupting from his own throat. Of bugs pouring out of Mitsuru’s eyes instead of tears, of Ken running away and never coming back. Of Polydeuces not evolving, instead trying to bury himself in Castor’s open, bleeding stomach. Of Aigis’ humanity not reaching her eyes, of the bullets hitting him between the eyes instead of breaking the restraints on his wrists.

 

Pharos leaves him the night after Mitsuru’s father dies. It feels like part of his soul is breaking off - he says nothing as the boy fades out of existence, but it feels like losing a limb, like it’s rotting and crumbling off his body. 

 

—

 

He wants to curl up in on himself.

 

Everyone  _ leaves _ . Or gets hurt. Or worse.

 

Pharos had been a constant, he had thought, because he only ever visited him when he closed his eyes. Who could take that away from him, at least? 

 

Aigis is a constant, but he will have to leave her one day. He is painfully aware that he could lose anyone else the same way they’d almost lost Shinjiro, the way Mitsuru and Yukari lost their fathers, the way he lost his own parents.

 

He wants to stop caring. He wants to call Minako and ask to come back. He wants to swallow his feelings and steel his face, don an impassive mask.

 

He can’t. His heart is too kind.

 

—

 

He is hit with a strange sense of deja vu upon meeting Ryoji for the first (?) time, mere days after Mitsuru’s father dies. The way the blue of his eyes bleeds into the iris reminds him of Pharos. Ryoji’s eyes lock with his own as he’s introducing himself to the class, and Minato has to look away. 

 

“Hi,” Ryoji introduces himself as soon as class is done, makes a beeline for his desk. “I’m Ryoji Mochizuki.”   
  
_ I know,  _ Minato says. Ryoji looks at his hands.

 

_ I can do this too,  _ he signs back, confusion on his own face.

 

_ You’re acting like you didn’t know,  _ Minato says with an amused snort. 

 

“My memory is bad,” Ryoji admits, a far off look in his eyes. “What’s your name?”

 

_ Must be really bad. Minato,  _ he tells him.  _ Arisato. _

 

“Arisato, huh,” the name falls off Ryoji’s tongue like it’s something special. “Do I know you?” Minato shakes his head with a quirk of his brow. “No, I suppose not. You’re quite memorable, I must say. Just like me.”

 

_ Sure thing,  _ he says. He’s not wrong - there’s something unmistakable about Ryoji, something in the air around him that feels  _ different _ . 

 

“Well,” Ryoji says with a smile. “I’ll see you around?”   
  
_ You will _ , Minato says.  _ I’m in your class. _

 

—

 

“Do you want to get dinner?” Ryoji asks him two days later with a grin. “My treat.”

 

_ Did everybody else reject you?  _ Minato asks. He’s heard the girls talking in the hallway. Ryoji places his hand on his chest in mock offence.

 

“Imagine,” he crows. “So?”

 

Minato is human. He enjoys free food.  _ Sure,  _ he says.

 

—

 

“So you live in a dorm?” Ryoji asks round a mouthful of noodles.

 

_ You asked me this already,  _ Minato reminds him.  _ Yeah.  _

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ryoji waves his hand. “Memory. Do I know anyone you stay with?”

 

_ Yukari and Junpei who are in our class stay there too.  _

 

“Ah, Yukari,” Ryoji gazes into the distance. “I asked her out for dinner and she slapped me.” Minato laughs behind his hand.

 

_ Sounds like you deserved it,  _ he tells him.

 

“Oh?” Ryoji raises his eyebrows and smiles at him. “Then why didn’t you slap me when I asked you the same question?”   
  
_ I like free food,  _ he says, ignoring the heat that rises to his cheeks. 

 

“If you say so,” Ryoji rests his chin on his hand and looks at him through his thick eyelashes. His eyes are so bright. “Give me your number?”   
  
_ Sure,  _ Minato says, handing his phone over. Ryoji takes five minutes to put his number in.

 

—

 

_ How do you know?  _ he writes to Minako.  _ How do you- _

 

—

 

Aigis corners him as soon as he gets back to the dorm. Junpei is sitting on the couch, presumably just recently returned from the hospital if the grin on his face is anything to go by.

 

“He is dangerous,” she says. “Ryoji Mochizuki is dangerous.” Minato cocks his head at her.

 

_ What do you mean?  _ he asks.

 

“I...do not know. I just have a feeling.” She meets his eyes, a puzzled look on her face. “Excuse me,” she says after a moment, and leaves the dorm.

 

(Minato fuses Thanatos the next time he goes to the Velvet Room. He tears himself free from his consciousness like he’s always been there. Igor’s grin somehow gets even wider).

 

—

 

He keeps seeing Ryoji. Aigis continues to interject. 

 

“I’ve spoken to her,” Yukari tells him as they walk home from school together one day. Junpei is at the hospital again. “I’ve told her having a friend like Ryoji is good for you. Honestly! I don’t know what the issue is.”

 

_ She doesn’t like him,  _ he says unhelpfully, as if that isn’t the entire point of the conversation.  _ She just has a feeling about him. _

 

“I know that,” Yukari says. “I don’t get it, though. He doesn’t seem off to you, surely?”

 

_ I feel like,  _ Minato has to pause to find the right words.  _ I know him. He’s familiar. _

 

Yukari elbows him with a grin. The implications that come with the way she’s waggling her eyebrows make his face redden.

 

—

 

They stop venturing into Tartarus as often as they had been before over the month of November. The floors have turned bright and unforgiving, giving Minato headaches and hurting his eyes. The shadows are the strongest they’ve ever been, too, and any more than four floors at a time leaves everyone fatigued to the point of exhaustion.

 

Mitsuru is missing, too, busy with planning her father’s funeral thirty years too early, busy trying to take over a company she hadn’t expected to be running for another decade, and they’re hurting without her. Despite this, they’re working well as a team - the best they ever have - Tartarus is all they have, now that the main shadows are gone. 

 

Minato tries not to think about how he feels no sense of purpose the way he did before.

 

—

 

_ Have you spoken to her?  _ Minato asks Yukari in the lounge one night. Ryoji has just left, slowly becoming a regular visitor to the dorm.

 

“Mitsuru?” Yukari answers his question with a question. She pulls a face. “Why do you want me to talk to her? Akihiko-senpai is much closer to her than I am, you know.”

 

_ I still think it might help,  _ Minato offers.  _ People were saying she might not go on the school trip next week. _

 

Yukari sighs. Minato can’t quite pin down what’s going on between Mitsuru and her - there are layers there he has no business in peeling off. 

 

“I can try,” she says eventually, kicking her feet up into his lap. “But I dunno if it’ll help. At all.”

 

_ That’s all you can do,  _ he shrugs.  _ You’ve gotten really good at this.  _ He points to his hands.

 

_ Thanks,  _ she switches seamlessly.  _ Practice helps, huh? _

 

_ Well, yeah. _

 

_ Are you looking forward to the school trip?  _ Minato nods his head.

 

_ I’ve never been to Kyoto. Are you? _

 

Yukari sighs. “Well,” she says, stretching her hands out in front of her. “I used to live in Kyoto, so it’s kinda whatever. I told you how me and my mom had to move around a lot after my dad died?” Minato nods. She had told him that in the summer on the beach, after they’d watched the video her father had supposedly left behind. Minato knows that wasn’t the full version - he saw Fuuka pass Yukari a DVD last week, and her eyes had been red at dinner that night. He doesn’t pry.

 

“We moved there at one point,” she continues. “It was the place I stayed in the longest before coming here, actually. I kinda saw all of it that I wanted to.”

 

_ I think it’ll be fun to see it with different people, though,  _ he says.

 

“Yeah,” she says quietly, her gaze fond and somewhere else. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

 

(Mitsuru does come on the trip. When Minato tries to ask about it, Yukari gets that same faraway look on her face she had gotten before).

 

—

Ryoji bothers him the whole bus ride to Kyoto. He claims the seat next to Minato and ignores the open hostility Aigis is eyeing him with.

 

_ It’s okay,  _ Minato tells her.  _ You can sit next to Yukari? _

 

“I wish to sit beside you,” Aigis says. “And the seat next to her is currently taken.” Minato cranes his neck behind him to see Mitsuru and Yukari sitting next to each other, engrossed in conversation.

 

_ Sorry,  _ he tells her and means it.  _ Sit next to Junpei? _

 

The look she gives him is one of open malice. He laughs behind his hand.

 

“Have you ever been to Kyoto before?” Ryoji asks as soon as the bus starts to move. Minato shakes his head. Ryoji hums in response.

 

_ I think it’ll be fun _ , he says.  _ I hope. _

 

“I’ll find us stuff to do,” Ryoji promises with a grin. He takes Minato’s hand in his own and links their pinkies together. “See. Now I have to. Hold me to it.”

 

_ Sure,  _ Minato says with one hand. He doesn’t want to let go.

 

(He sees Mitsuru and Yukari later, after he leaves them to talk next to the river. They’re holding hands. He smiles privately to himself and questions her later until she’s red in the face).

 

—

 

“He’s so kind,” Ryoji says to Junpei, when it’s just them.

 

“Who?” Junpei says round a mouthful of dango. “Me?”

 

“What?” Ryoji says. “Why would I refer to you in the third person?”

 

“What does that even mean?” Junpei groans and rolls over onto his back. “Man. I don’t get you.”

 

“What’s not to get?” Ryoji asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “I’m easy to understand.”

 

“Not really!” Junpei objects. “You ask out every girl in the year and then blow them all off to hang out with our good mutual friend for the sixth time that week. It makes no sense to  _ me _ , at least.”

 

“Don’t you feel at ease round him?” 

 

“Minato? Like, dude, I guess? He’s levelheaded, so…” Junpei trails off and looks at Ryoji like he’s only just meeting him. “Ohhhh,” he breathes out.

 

“What?” Ryoji says. 

 

“I get it, man,” Junpei slaps his hand onto his chest. “Young love. I have a lot of experience in that area.” Ryoji splutters.

 

“It’s- that wasn’t what I  _ meant _ ,” he insists, but the seed has been planted and is already sprouting. “I just meant-”

 

“What did you mean?” Junpei asks. “Seriously. You talk in riddles half the time.”

 

“I feel like I know him as well as I know myself,” Ryoji’s gaze is far away as he says it. “Is that strange?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Junpei pops another piece of dango into his mouth. “But I don’t judge, so don’t even worry about it. Do you wanna see what I bought for Chidori? You know what girls like, right?”

 

“Sure,” Ryoji looks out over the city from the balcony and frowns. He can hear laughter below.

 

He’s forgetting something, a puzzle missing a piece. He tries to remember. He cannot.

 

—

 

Minato rolls over on his futon to face Ryoji.  _ Can’t sleep?  _ he asks, the signs hard to make out in the dark. Ryoji shakes his head.

 

_ Come on.  _ Minato reaches for his hand and grabs something that he stuffs in the pocket of his pyjama pants before leading Ryoji carefully across the room, downstairs, outside onto the front steps of the hotel. 

 

“Are we going somewhere?” Ryoji asks, very aware of Minato’s grip around his wrist. 

 

_ Not far,  _ Minato signs with his free hand.  _ Just to the river. _

 

“Okay,” Ryoji lets himself be led along. He wishes he’d put shoes on - the concrete is cool beneath his feet. Minato leads him down a set of stairs and sits, his legs not long enough to reach the river below them. Ryoji cannot say the same - he dips his toes into the water.

 

“You can let go of my wrist,” he says. Minato makes an o-shape with his mouth and retracts his hand like he’s been burnt.

 

_ Sorry,  _ he signs. 

 

“It’s okay,” Ryoji’s voice is hoarse all of a sudden. “I don’t blame you if want to hold my hand, I mean-” Minato cuts him off by handing him an earphone. He points to Ryoji’s ear. 

 

“I know how these work,” he mumbles, putting it into his ear. Minato presses a button on the cylindrical device he’s holding in his hand and puts the other earphone in his own ear. The music starts to play.

 

They sit by the river for what feels like a very long time. The sun rises in the east. Minato puts his head on Ryoji’s shoulder.

 

“I feel like I have known you for a very long time,” Ryoji admits. The sun hurts his eyes. “Is that strange?”

 

_ Kind of. But I get it,  _ Minato slides their hands together.  _ It feels like that for me, too. _

 

—

 

_ How do you know? How do you know that you’re happy? When do you know that this is- _

 

—

 

They very pointedly make an effort to  _ not  _ talk about the hot springs.

 

“It was good otherwise,” Ryoji remarks on the bus back, his head on Minato’s shoulder. Minato makes a soft noise of agreement and closes his eyes.

—

 

Ryoji receives a text on the twenty second from Minato that says  _ I have to cancel tonight. Sorry. _

 

_ no worries,  _ he types back. He hopes nothing is wrong, but there is unease in his bones and an ache in his chest. He goes for a walk.

 

—

 

When the gunshot rings out in the night and connects to Junpei’s chest, Minato has to stifle a scream from escaping from his throat.  _ Not again _ , he thinks.  _ No-one else, we can’t- _

 

He watches with a sort of detached morbid fascination as Chidori knits Junpei’s flesh back together. Relief flushes over him, and he uses his body to block Jin and Takaya’s line of sight from the two of them. He should have  _ known  _ Jin and Takaya hadn’t really died that night, though from what Takaya was saying, it hadn’t been on purpose.

 

“Ah,” Chidori breathes out from behind him, and he hears her body hit the ground. He can’t turn around to look at them. He knows what he’ll see.

 

Again, again, again. Can no-one in his life catch a fucking break, can nobody here have one good thing happen to them-

  
“What a waste,” Takaya drawls out as his friend lies dying mere feet away. Minato tries to tune out what Junpei and Chidori are saying to each other behind him, because he again feels like he’s walked into a room where he doesn’t know anybody. It’s not for his ears. He doesn’t know that he could bear it. Takaya goes to take a step forward, and Minato grips his sword tighter, pushes it a little closer to the man.

 

_ Try it,  _ he dares him, eyes narrowing. 

 

“Don’t,” Jin says, grabs Takaya’s wrist as he goes to raise the gun again. “You can’t. Save your strength.”   
  
“I suppose,” Takaya says. The scream that erupts from Junpei’s throat startles Minato so badly he almost drops his sword. He knows Chidori is dead as soon as the noise reaches his ears.

 

(That, too, will weave itself into his nightmares. They’ve become one long endless scream).

 

Hermes rips himself from Junpei’s throat, writhing in agony. Medea rises to meet him and embraces Hermes, her long arms wrapping round his back. She sinks into and under his skin. Trismegistus is born with a scream.

 

Junpei lunges for Takaya and Jin, who are already moving away from the group. Minato doesn’t dare move - the gun is still in Takaya’s hand. 

 

“You can’t,” Yukari tells him and holds him back. Junpei tries to elbow her, tries to shake her off of him, but he’s lost all his strength - he collapses to his knees and sobs.

 

Trismegistus keeps watch over him the entire time. Their wings make no sound.

 

Minato has lost count of the amount of times this heavy, bloody silence has followed them back to the dorm. He has no energy to pray for it to not happen again, because the sky seems to be deaf.

 

—

 

The week goes on, and Junpei looks - bad. He doesn’t bounce back the way Akihiko had, doesn’t pretend to be put together the way Mitsuru had. His eyes have a red tint to them as they sit around the kitchen table, and he’s barely touched his food. Mitsuru places a folder down in front of him.   
  
“This came from the hospital,” she says. “When they were going through her belongings. It seemed best that you got it.” Junpei grunts in acknowledgement but makes no move to open the envelope. 

 

_ You should look at it,  _ Minato works up the courage to sign. He doesn’t know if it’s appropriate for him to say anything, but he hates seeing his friends hurting, hates the world that has done this to them.

 

“I guess,” Junpei fixes him with a stare. He slides the envelope open and makes a soft noise of recognition. “It’s her sketchbook,” he says.

 

“Was she an artist?” Fuuka asks, her voice soft.

 

“Yeah,” Junpei says. “A lotta abstract stuff, though, I couldn’t really make heads or tails of it…” he flips the book open.

 

“That’s not abstract,” Yukari observes. It’s a drawing of Junpei, eyes fixed on something not visible on the page. He looks peaceful. 

 

“Huh.” He flicks through the rest of the sketchbook - his own face greets him on every page. “I never. I’ve never seen any of these.” He sniffs. Minato sees everything click into place behind his eyes as he wipes the tears from them. “She wouldn’t want me moping around like this,” he says. He meets Minato’s eyes and signs, shakily.

 

_ I’m counting on you,  _ he says.

 

_ I understand  _ Minato says, and he does, as much as he can.

 

—

 

There is an ultimatum coming. 

 

He can feel it, somehow, in the thrumming of the Earth and the way the snow clumps on the bare trees outside the dorm. Something is - off. Something is coming.

 

Minato lies awake at night and tries to make sense of it all. He can feel Thanatos pacing around in his head. It’s unsettling. He can’t make sense of any of it, and when the Velvet Room summons him in his sleep that night, Igor is of no help.

 

“Something looms,” he says, apparently unable to speak in anything but riddles. 

 

_ I know,  _ he signs, desperate. And then, not expecting an answer.  _ What is it? _

 

“Death,” Igor says, the card spread between his fingers. “An end.”

 

**—**

 

Ryoji’s feet lead him to the bridge. It feels familiar, blood of his blood. He rests his head on the railing and  _ remembers _ .

 

Aigis is there, because of course she is. She was there before too, at the start.

 

“You,” she says, flat. Ryoji does not think she is devoid of emotion - there is anger in the set of her shoulders. 

 

“Death,” Ryoji mumbles out. “Of course.”

 

“So you remember?” she says. He does not imagine the surprise in her voice. “I see.”

 

“I only just-” he cuts himself off because his head starts to hurt, starts to feel like it’s splitting in two. Aigis watches him writhe around. She says nothing. 

 

“I have to eliminate you,” she says.

 

“You can’t,” Ryoji warns her. “You can’t.”

 

“I must,” Aigis says. “It is my purpose.” She raises her arm.

 

“No, you can’t,” Ryoji’s voice borders on hysterical. He knows how much she means to him, does not want to harm her, even though he knows she cannot die. “You can’t beat me.”

 

It’s a good effort, really. She makes him bleed - a stray bullet nicks him along the face under his eye. It stings in the cold midnight air. He wonders how he can feel pain.

 

The look that Minato gives him as he crouches over Aigis’ borders on betrayal. Ryoji can’t meet his eyes.

 

“Did you do this?” Akihiko asks him, his hands balled up in fists. Mitsuru puts her hand on his shoulder.

 

“He’s showing no signs of resistance,” she says to him. “Let him explain.”

 

“I-” Ryoji doesn’t know where to begin - it’s not like he knew anything himself until half an hour ago. The words fall from his lips, but they feel pre-orchestrated, like he’s reading off a script.    
  
“I’m the embodiment of all Shadows,” he says. He looks directly at Minato. “Aigis sealed me inside you ten years ago,” he says, the ugly truth spilling from him like poison. “That’s why-”

 

_ That’s why you felt so familiar,  _ Minato realises. 

 

“Nyx is coming,” Ryoji says, knows it with all his being. How could he have ever forgotten?   
  
“Nyx?” Yukari asks. “What-”

 

“That’s what the Chairman mentioned,” Mitsuru mumbles. “The Fall, he called it.” Ryoji nods.

 

“Nyx is,” knowledge of every language man has ever spoken sits in his head, untouched. He tries to reach for the words to describe her and fails to. “The end,” he settles on. “Defeating the twelve shadows made me, because I’m the Appriser.” The realisation knocks the wind out of him.

 

_ To summon her,  _ Minato says.  _ Right? _

 

“No, I’m,” Ryoji breathes out. “ _ I’m _ here to bring about the Fall. I’m Death.” 

 

“I don’t get it,” Junpei says. Ryoji passes out.

 

—

 

Minato’s hand is in his when he wakes up. He’s lying on the couch in the lounge of the dorm - no-one else is there.

 

_ You took too long to wake up,  _ Minato explains.  _ So they all went to bed. They’ll be back at the crack of dawn. _

 

“You shouldn’t have stayed up,” Ryoji tells him. Minato shrugs.

 

_ You probably would have ran off,  _ he says. Ryoji winces at the honesty.

 

“Do you understand?” he asks. Minato nods, slowly and carefully. Ryoji shuts his eyes.

 

“I didn’t  _ know _ ,” he says. “Until I was on the bridge, I didn’t know.” Minato grips his hand tighter. “I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes again to look at Minato, the pale moonlight from outside framing his face. He looks so - open. He looks hurt. Ryoji opens his arms for him.

 

—

 

“I’m sorry,” Ryoji repeats again in the morning, when the rest of the team are settled round him. Minato is to his right - their knees are touching. “The Fall is absolute.”

 

“What  _ is  _ the Fall, exactly?” Mitsuru asks, stirring her tea. 

 

“The end of the world,” Ryoji says, simply. “Apathy syndrome cases have been on the rise for a reason.”

 

“So, that would happen to everyone?” Akihiko asks. “The world would just be swallowed up like that?” Ryoji shrugs.

 

“Nyx is absolute,” he says. “She is the end. I am simply Death. I cannot pretend to know what she would do with absolute certainty. But,” he continues. “That is my guess. The end of humanity, for sure.”

 

“ _ Simply _ death,” Junpei guffaws. 

 

“Is there anything we can do?” Fuuka asks, her face full of hope. Ryoji shakes his head.

 

“You  _ cannot  _ defeat Nyx,” he knows this. Part of him wants them to try anyways. “But, if you kill me, your memories of the Dark Hour will be wiped. You’ll forget all of this, forget that you’re going to die,” he cups his face in his hands. “You could live your last few months in peace.” 

 

“ _ Kill _ you?” Yukari says. “Are you serious?”   
  


“It won’t hurt,” Ryoji assures her. Minato kicks him in the shin.

 

_ That’s not the point,  _ he signs. Ryoji sighs.

 

“If you don’t, you’ll know what’s coming,” he tells them. “You’ll live every day thinking about it, till it eats you up from the inside. You’ll die scared.”

 

“But we’d die together, if it came to that,” Fuuka says. Minato fixes her with a stare. “And there’s - surely a chance? That we can defeat Nyx?” Ryoji shakes his head, frustrated.

 

“You cannot,” he moves to stand up. “You  _ cannot  _ defeat Nyx. I,” he shuffles past the group, “will be back on New Years. Make your decision by then,” he turns on his heel and walks out the door.

 

—

 

Minato tries texting him. He gets no response.

 

He thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time. Ryoji isn’t at school anymore, either, the homeroom teacher explaining that he’d moved away. Minato wishes that was the case. He misses fingers threaded with his, misses the press of lips into his hair. 

 

The month drags. His friends look at him with something akin to pity in their eyes. He thinks about it.

 

“I don’t want to forget this,” Yukari tells him on the school rooftop, handing him a dumpling. “I don’t want to forget this year,” she passes another dumpling to Junpei. Aigis stands looking at the sky.

 

“Me either,” Junpei says after he’s done eating. “I don’t wanna forget,” he licks his fingers. “Chidori gave me this life, and like  _ hell  _ am I gonna throw that memory away. It’s not right.”

 

_ Dying peacefully sounds nice _ , he tells himself. _ Dying not knowing it was coming sounds nice. It would be over so fast. _

 

_ But your friends,  _ he thinks, and that’s just it, isn’t it. His friends - his  _ family  _ \- he would stare down death for them, would do anything, and if there’s a chance-

 

“There isn’t,” Ryoji tells him on New Year’s, sitting on his bed. “There isn’t a chance of you defeating her.”

 

_ I won’t kill you,  _ he says.  _ I won’t. You can’t ask me to. _

 

“It’s for you,” frustration seeps into Ryoji’s voice, “Please.” Minato shakes his head again.

 

_ Come here,  _ he asks.  _ I haven’t seen you all month.  _ Ryoji stands and has to lean down to press their foreheads together.

 

“Another life,” he promises. “I’ll find you again, and…”

 

_ We can be normal,  _ Minato says.  _ Promise on it.  _ Ryoji links their pinkies together.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and then “have a good year.” He leaps from Minato’s window and he watches him walk into the night, swallowed by the sky. Ryoji does not look back once. 

 

“You didn’t, right?” Yukari asks him as soon as he shows up downstairs.

 

_ Of course not,  _ he signs, miserable.  _ How could I? _

 

His friends embrace him, and he cries for the first time in years.

 

—

 

Minato hangs back to listen to Jin die.

 

He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe because, deep down, he thinks he deserves it. Akihiko returned from the hospital with Ken that morning eyes red and puffy. 

 

“You’ll see him again,” Mitsuru had promised him, rubbing circles into his back. 

 

So he stands on the steps of Tartarus and listens to Jin’s screaming stop. He breathes in and steels his resolve, returns to climbing. The layout of the floors have changed to a stark white, something holy.

 

It feels like they first discovered Tartarus a lifetime ago. Minato doesn’t even need to sign to his friends anymore, they’re so in sync. Back to back and heart to heart.

 

Blood of my blood.

 

He wants to put the bullet through Takaya’s head. Junpei stops him.

 

—

 

He cries throughout the entire fight.

 

“Why do you resist?” the Avatar asks. Ryoji’s hair spills out over it’s shoulders, its wings fluttering in the wind the same way his scarf had.

 

_ It’s not him _ , Minato thinks. Reminds himself.  _ It’s not him _ .

 

“I want to live,” Junpei says. “I want to  _ live _ .”

 

The tears are quiet and angry. He falters not once, not when the Avatar’s ( _ Ryoji, Ryoji, _ ) face shifts for the first time into a Shadow he killed a lifetime ago. Not when it’s face shifts into the Shadow they killed before Shinjiro was shot, not when it’s face shifts into the last Shadow he thought he’d ever have to fight. The Avatar’s voice is absolute and uncaring. 

 

“The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed,” it says as its face changes for the last time. Death stares Minato in the eyes. 

 

Minato stares back. He pulls Persona after Persona from the depths of his soul.

 

It’s not  _ enough _ .  _ Thor  _ becomes  _ Orpheus  _ becomes  _ Helel  _ becomes  _ Thanatos  _ -

 

“Death is absolute,” the Avatar says. 

 

_ It’s right,  _ Minato thinks.  _ It’s right, but I-  _ Thanatos chuckles darkly above him, and pulls a spell that should not, will not work out of himself. 

 

“Hama,” Thanatos says. The moon opens up. 

 

Minato hysterically thinks of Atlas the Titan as he collapses, unable to bear Nyx’s weight as she swallows the world. 

 

—

 

“You hold the power of the Universe, now,” Igor tells him, the card spread in between his fingers the same way he had held Death before. The voices of his friends ring out around him. Elizabeth fixes him with a stare so piercing he has to close his eyes. 

 

Igor says, “nothing is beyond you now.”

 

Igor says, “you have been a most excellent guest.”

 

Minato knows he is not going to live to see the summer. His friends beg him not to go alone, but he must. He can ask no more of them.

 

He opens his eyes. He looks at Death.

 

It is a misshapen, ugly thing - its appearance shifts and distorts, never into anything recognisable. Tendrils erupt from under its skin to become misshapen trunks of flesh. What looks and smells like, but cannot be blood falls from it in torrents, covering Minato in the sickly smell of Death. 

 

He is scared. He is  _ so, so, so _ scared, his hands shaking. He cannot bring his hands to sign a single spell, cannot feel a single Persona stirring within himself, but-

 

He lunges forward, sword in his shaking hands. Death gives off no sign that it even knew he was there, had felt his sword pierce it’s make believe flesh. 

 

It fires a beam at him, heat so painful and raw that he swears his flesh will burn off of him and leave nothing left. He is still standing by the end of it, but barely, barely.

 

_ It hurts,  _ he thinks.  _ I’m going to die alone. _

 

He closes his eyes and thinks of his friends, begs that they, at least, get to be together in the end. It would have to be enough, it would have to-

 

Aigis’ voice reaches his ears first. Fuuka’s, Yukari’s, Junpei’s.

 

The strength returns to his legs.

 

Akihiko’s, Mitsuru’s, Koromaru’s. Ken’s. 

 

The strength returns to his arms, his head. He looks up at Death again and remembers.

 

_ I can seal it,  _ he thinks.  _ I can.  _

 

He pulls his life from his breast and chains Death in its own home.

 

—

 

“We will meet again,” the Avatar and Death and Thanatos and Pharos and Ryoji tell him, reaching for his hand. He takes it, his own hand so small in its own. 

 

He takes Aigis’ hand in his own, two months later, exhausted on the rooftop. He remembers her clear as day, blonde hair framing her fair. He loves her so much.

 

He hears his friends open the door, gets one last look at them. Arms embrace him as he closes his eyes and goes home.

 

—

 

_ How do you know?  _ He writes to Minako. _ How do you know that you’re happy? When do you know that this is it? Is there a moment, like people write about, one definitive moment? Is it a collection of moments? Is it sitting with your friends in the dark telling each other ghost stories and realising you’ve never been this happy, but you thought that last week at the bowling alley, and the week before at the park? Is it sharing your headphones with a boy you’ve known forever, and yet only a month? Is it absolute? Will this be taken away from me? _

 

_ I don’t think so. I’ll always have this, after all, always. My memories can’t be taken from me, but I still wonder. Is this temporary? Will I always feel this way? _

 

_ I probably won’t send this,  _ he finishes.  _ But I want you to know that I’m happy.  _

 

—

  
  
  



End file.
